by Amber Malloy
“Yeah, yeah.” He poked his lower lip out.
“Now, let’s start over.” She put her hand out. “Remy Bell, and you’re going to run down everything you know about football to me.”
A hint of a grin crossed his grumpy face. “Why can’t you ask Dudley Do-Right?” The bleachers laughed at his Canadian diss.
“Asking a football player about football is the worst kind of pain.” They turned their attention toward the field. Knox threw up his hands in a WTF move. Remy laughed. He had no idea what they were up to, which probably really ticked him off.
“Is it me or is he pissed?”
“Well, it is super-hot out,” she admitted. “But don’t act like it wasn’t your goal to make him mad when you plopped your ass down.”
“True.” He grasped her hand within his sweaty mitt. “If teaching you football keeps that expression on his face, I’m in.” Art shook on it. “What do you need to know?”
* * * *
An epic summer storm raged outside. Remy grabbed her red Solo cup off the nightstand and sipped the lukewarm riesling. After studying her football notes for close to fifteen minutes, she had finally given up. The team had a week left until the end of camp and she still didn’t have a good angle on a story. Her focus majorly sucked. The press had waited for hours in the hot July sun for a few stingy sound bites from the players. Front office had needed to put her and Knox on notice about fraternization more than once.
Instead, she pulled up an article about her uncle. For years, Remy had investigated and studied the congressman’s rise to power. Always on the edge of illegal activity, he dipped his toes into the pool but had never quite jumped into the deep end. Even if she found the smoking gun on Brooks, he would find some way to wiggle out of trouble. At this point, she would need an avalanche of evidence to bury him.
While rain battered against her hotel window, she went through news stories and television clips of dear old Uncle Brooks. It was a long shot, but nevertheless, she searched for that needle in the haystack. Sliding farther underneath the cool hotel sheets, she studied the congressman’s latest endeavors.
The hard rhythm from the rain helped to quiet her thoughts, and Remy felt her anxiety ramp down a notch. Thunderstorms didn’t usually bother her, but every so often they would remind her of the night her parents had been killed. Two cops had arrived at her private school to hand her over—signed, sealed and delivered—to the politician. Remy had known better than to leave with them. In the middle of one of the worst spring storms, she had snuck out of her dorm room and had been playing keep-away from her uncle ever since.
Exhausted, she closed her eyes. A boom of thunder startled her upright. Lightning from the storm flashed outside the patio window.
As a slight sheen of sweat kissed her skin and a flutter of panic spread through her chest. She must have fallen asleep.
“Remy.” Knox stood at the end of the bed.
“What the hell?”
“The power’s out all over the city. You forgot to engage your security lock,” he huffed, out of breath. “I just ran up five flights of stairs. I tried to call, but—”
He crossed over to the patio doors and slid it open. “It’s hot as hell in here.” When he turned to face her, the taut muscles on his face relaxed into a lopsided grin and he kicked off his shoes. “This place must not have a back-up generator.”
“What are you doing, Supastar?” Although slightly groggy, she couldn’t miss the moonlight showing the twinkle in his eyes.
“Well, you know, since I’m here…” He pulled the end of his shirt over his head. “We can catch up on some snuggles. I’ve got a few minutes before anyone will notice that I’m gone.”
“When did cuddling require you to be naked?”
“Everyone cuddles naked, baby,” he said matter-of-factly. Already out of his shorts, Knox flopped onto the mattress. “Damn, this bed is small.”
“Maybe you’re just huge.”
He grabbed her ankle and tugged her down to him, kissing her on the lips. The instant warmth of his mouth caused twisty flutters of heat to tickle her insides. He tried to guide his cock into her opening, but after three weeks, Remy wasn’t up for a missionary quickie.
“Dealer’s choice.”
“Come on, Heartbreaker. My muscles are sore and I only have a few minutes,” he whined. “Getting back on campus will be a lot harder when the power is back on. I’m already risking one hell of a fine.”
“Dealer’s choice.” Remy traced her tongue along the bottom of his lip and deepened their kiss before she flipped on to her side.
“Dammit,” he hissed. Positioning himself next to her opening, he nudged himself between her legs. “First off, I love and hate that you sleep naked.” As he placed sweet kisses along her spine, he grabbed a chunk of her curls and moved them away from her neck. “Seeing you every day and not being able to touch you”—he slowly maneuvered the tip of his rod into her slit—“is agony.”
Gently biting her neck, he started to pound her pussy from behind. When he reached around to caress her nipple, Remy moaned.
“Fuck, this pussy is good,” he growled.
Determined to hold out a little longer, she eased away from the tingles of a good orgasm and laid the front of her body flat onto the bed.
“Ba-a-a-aby,” Knox groaned before he slapped her on the ass. “You’re killing me here.” Climbing on top of her back, he slipped his huge hand between her and the bed and slid his cock back into her pussy.
While Knox used one hand to balance his weight, he manipulated her clit with the other. Left breathless, the pounding her pussy took sent shockwaves of pleasure throughout her entire body. A feral scream erupted from her core.
Slapping the palm of her hand against the headboard to stop her soul from shattering apart, she continued to holler.
He stuttered out indecipherable words before he laid his head on top of the back of hers. His heart beat wildly in his chest, and Remy felt it pounding against her back. “Don’t run,” he begged. Without waiting for a reply, he kissed her neck and climbed out of the bed.
As the storm finally slowed to a crawl, Knox went into the bathroom. Sex drunk, she nodded off. When she heard the door creak, she opened her eyes.
“Why would you think that?” After he had reduced her to a wet, vibrating mess, she didn’t think he could flip the mood that quickly.
“Canada with my parents.” He stood in front of the window, allowing her a good shot of his muscled ass. However, his side profile made her want to grab her camera. Chiseled cheekbones, strong jaw… Mix all of this with his intelligence and kindness and none of it was an expected match.
Since the moment her parents had died, Remy had insulated herself within a world that would protect her. College had become a fortress between her and the congressman. She’d used her sorority sisters as buffers. However, her chance meeting with the quarterback had changed her perfectly constructed life. Falling for Knox had forced her to let her guard down, which had allowed her uncle a foothold into her world.
Their fairytale had soon twisted into a rushed marriage born out of panic and fear, not to mention a miscarriage that she’d never told Knox about. Unfortunately, those high-octane emotions still fueled them. Stay and die or run to fight another day. The cliff-jumping adrenaline never ended. It was a matter of time before he grew tired of their out-of-whack lifestyle.
Lately Remy had felt the weight of their relationship on her shoulders. If she didn’t give the football god that farm and kid fantasy, the whole affair would soon be over.
“Knox, that’s not what…” she tried to tell him, but her explanation died on her lips.
“Don’t break my heart,” he said softly, “again.”
A lump formed in her throat, and Remy swallowed hard. The congressman got to win while her world spun out of control.
“The night we met, I remember you running and looking back. Was someone chasing you?”
A physical badass, Knox w
as one of the sweetest men she had ever met. “Supastar—” she attempted to stop him.
“At the time, all I knew was that the girl of my dreams had fallen right into the palm of my hands.”
“Uh, well, you kind of grabbed me.” She softened at the memory.
“It took a minute to get it, but you would have done a hell of lot better without me. I mean, shit…” He rolled his shoulders before turning to face her. “This is not your thing, and I shouldn’t have brought you back. It was selfish. But please, just do me a favor and stay… One season with you in the stands is all I want. We can get security to follow you around, or I can cut the season short…take the contract hit. But we can—”
“Stop. I’m not going anywhere,” she promised. Usually honest to a fault, Remy tended to avoid conversations that forced her to lie.
“Good.” He snatched his discarded clothes off the floor. “Now what’s up with you and the old man?” His abrupt change in topics threw her for a loop.
“Who…Art?” She wound her curls around her shoulder, happy to move on to safer ground. “He’s cool.”
“That hideous human being has bashed me my entire career. Are you really cozying up to the enemy?”
“Don’t exaggerate.” She took in the sight of the sexy man putting his clothes back on. Abs, guns…hell, Knox even had amazing thigh muscles.
“Tell that hack to keep his old man cooties away from my wife.” He yanked his shirt over his head. “Also, what is the deal with you and my mom? Why do you keep dodging her?”
“Huh?” Caught off guard, she tried to train her face. Soon the prime minister’s wife would send the Canadian Mounties to hunt her down. “I texted her,” she told him. The message had held no substance, but she needed to keep the woman from showing up unannounced. “How much trouble will you get into for this?” The lights hadn’t turned back on yet. Knox still had a fighting chance to get onto the university campus sight unseen.
“A fine, maybe.”
“High or low?” She offered him the game where they would bet on something.
“Five thousand, up to twenty-five thousand dollars. You go,” he told her.
“Nope, you.”
“First, I will not be getting caught, but if I do, no more than ten thousand.”
“Twenty-five thousand,” Remy picked. “They’ll want to make an example out of you, and I need money.”
“Really? For what?”
“Not sure yet… A business maybe.” Knox took care of their finances and did a hell of a job, but Remy wanted to try her hand at investing.
“Since you’re going to lose, no problem,” he agreed.
“And what do you want?”
“For you to take out your IUD, as soon as possible.”
“Oh.” Barely able to keep herself safe, she didn’t want to rain on his parade. Remy had no plans to provide the congressman with another blood relative to go after.
“Deal?” Kneeling across the bed, Knox leaned toward her.
Another lie? Oh well… She would feel bad about it later. “Deal.” Remy met him halfway for a sweet peck on the lips.
“Now put the security lock on the door,” he told her once they’d parted. With sparkling eyes that danced in the moonlight, he tugged on her hand for her to follow him. For a split second, Remy wanted to tell him about the miscarriage, but she shook it off. Maybe once the smoke cleared, she would let him know that having a baby might not come so easy.
Chapter Nineteen
Camp had finally ended and Knox wanted to sleep for days. During those weeks, the women had planned a lot of activities and Remy hadn’t gotten to experience any of the fun. Celebrating their return, the wives had thrown a mixer for her. Apparently, they wanted to recreate the college co-ed atmosphere, to show Remy what she had missed.
It was an awesome gesture that ultimately put him in his teammates’ crosshairs. These men had gone for weeks without sex. However, Dahl had extended the invitation, which meant none of the wives would turn down the Mavericks’ owner. Everybody’s blue balls simply had to wait.
Knox opened the door to Moe’s, a crusty blues dive located in River North.
“Why?” he asked Andre, who sat the bar. The place was a freakin’ eyesore.
“Because Dahl pours a mean drink, which means I need a ride to get Lashonda.” Andre devoured the basket of buffalo wings in front of him.
“That doesn’t answer my question.” Remy had carpooled with Lashonda. Of course, it had never occurred to him that the designated driver would need one herself.
“My car is too shiny and beautiful to be decorated with puke.”
“Ah, there it is… Pure selfishness.”
Andre chuckled, with no shame. “Besides, Moe’s is the best. These appetizers…” He whistled. “Good music—and no one bothers us here.”
“Man, you trust this food?” Knox wondered why the room appeared dusty. Pictures of all the old greats—Muddy Waters, B.B. King, and John Lee Hooker on stage—covered the walls. Ten senior citizens sat around the tables to enjoy the band, who, at first glance, appeared half dead.
Andre tossed the last bone into the basket and got up. “On to the next topic at hand. Things have become seriously awkward and I’m going to need you two to kiss and make up. We gotta pick up the girls in about an hour.”
Confused, Knox squinted at him until Hawk stepped out of the swinging doors from the kitchen. As the situation finally dawned on him, Andre grabbed his drink and left them alone.
The hockey player nodded before he went behind the bar. As he was close with the owner, Hawk would often pass the time slinging drinks on the weekends.
“Hey.” Knox held out his hand and the big guy reluctantly slapped it. “What’s going on?” Since dealing with the congressman, he hadn’t had time to add their bro mess onto the pile of problems. A part of him felt bad, but not bad enough to seek Hawk out.
“Not much. Just got traded to the Northern Royals.”
“Congratulations, man.”
With a slight smile Hawk nodded his head. “I’m pretty excited about it. I wanted to call you, but…”
“Yeah, well, I’m happy for you regardless.” Knox bounced his leg up and down. He had a lot stuff on his mind.
“Still not going to say anything about that shit with the congressman?” Hawk poured the beer on tap and slid the mug across the bar.
“It speaks for itself, doesn’t it?” Accepting the dude form of a truce, he grabbed the drink. Knox could have been wrong, since Hawk often held a mean grudge, but he took a chug of the frothy brew and sighed. After all those weeks in camp, a good hit of cold beer did wonders for his state of mind.
“That last summer before your senior year, we were supposed to go to Cancun, but you canceled at the last minute. And after senior graduation, you bailed on the apartment.” A year behind him, Hawk had had to fend for himself once Knox had gotten drafted. “I was lucky enough to get another scholarship to cover your cost, but even that was bullshit, wasn’t it?”
No matter how crappy it made him feel, Knox deserved this guilt trip. Hawk had grown up in the foster care system and they had met at hockey camp. The two had been inseparable ever since.
“Regardless of what you or your parents think about me, I’m not a charity case.” Hawk grabbed a mug and swiped angrily at it.
Strong on pride, Hawk would have freaked if he’d ever found out that his family had funded his scholarship.
“Look, man… You’re like a brother, and…well, since you’re probably making more money than me, feel free to pay me back,” Knox offered.
Hawk chuckled, which helped. The big man had always been a hard nut to crack. “Do your parents know?”
Toying with a coaster, he twirled it into a circle. “I had no choice but to bring them in,” Knox admitted. “If I could do one thing different, I wouldn’t have involved them.”
“And Remy?” Hawk casually leaned against the bar.
“Cards on the table?” Knox
asked. “As long as I’m with her, nothing else matters.”
* * * *
The last time Remy had had a true girls’ night out was college. Somewhere between drinks, karaoke and the tarot card reading, she realized Brooks Richard had changed the trajectory of her entire life.
What if her parents had never died? What if she had been left beaten for Knox to find? And the miscarriage she still hadn’t told him about… After so much time had passed, it had become easier not to say anything. However, he kept bringing up that huge Canadian family he wanted.
Standing in the kitchen, she studied the wine in the cooler. Not officially on the safe side of completely drunk, she felt the effects of the alcohol begin to dissipate. Remy didn’t want to lose the foggy haze. She struggled to get the wine opener into the cork.
“Hey, so I was thinking— Whoa!” Fresh out of the shower and clad in his favorite pair of sweats, Knox grabbed the bottle out of her hand. “You didn’t get smashed enough at Dahl’s?”
Instead of responding to his question, she waited for him to open it.
Twist, pop… Everything is so easy for Knox. She chuckled at the rhyme and held out her glass, but he only poured a small amount into it. Tilting her head to the side, she glowered at the handsome man.
“Trust me, babe. You’re going to be feeling this in the morning…” Pouring the glass well over the halfway point, he passed it over to her.
“What do you say to staying with my parents for the season?”
Fuck no! But she couldn’t very well say that. Not being in any condition to verbally spar with Knox, she chugged her glass of wine in the most lady-like manner that she could manage. Stuck in a lose-lose situation, she did the only thing that came to mind and grabbed a handful of his crotch.
“So is that like a ‘yes’, you’re going to do what I ask for a change?”
Remy set her glass down and slipped her hand into his sweatpants.
After a few good strokes of her hand, his dick grew from a semi to rock-hard in a matter of seconds. Since Knox kept his face blank, she couldn’t figure out if he wanted to go further until he reached over and thumbed her exposed breast. Earlier she’d put on one of his tanks that simply didn’t fit.